Some great 70's looking ceramic signs in front of a Lille bakery
Friday, May 25, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Monday, May 21, 2007
Travel
I finally had a job interview last week with a wildlife park in Kent as I've recently been toying with the idea that I may need to move to the UK if I want to get work in my field, anywhere near my field, 3 paddocks over from my field...
So far 2007 has been a wash out. Presidential elections in May have means that funding has dried up for most administrations as they wait and see what the new government will bring, the July-August period is generally regarded as fruitless for any long term contracts (though there may be some short term temp work on offer), and in June I'll be in Australia so I can't take up any temping jobs that cut into that month. My unemployment benefits run out sometime in August and things will start to be a bit stressful, to understate the point ever so mildly, if I'm still out of work then. The interview went well, though it involved an inordinate amount of travel and hairline precise connections as I had to get myself out into countryside Kent, and was at least less intimidating that doing in French.
It was interesting to notice the contrasts between interview techniques. French interviews are highly jobs focused - they ask you about many of the positions listed on your CV "tell us about your time at job x" , while the UK interview was highly skills focused, with practically all the questions being along the lines of "do you have any experience with doing x task?". Obviously this brings up prior work experience, but I found it gave me more scope to discuss my studies and more general competencies that can be grouped over several years and different jobs. Its a more flexible approach - some of those jobs on my CV don't bear mentioning and the fact that I got through them at all without being fired or quitting is probably more of a testament to my capabilities than the fact that I was simply employed during said period. Whether I impressed them enough to have got a job out of it is another matter. I'm pretty rusty on my interview technique as it's been a case of much too few and far between lately. It would also mean moving to southern Kent and buying a car rather speedily. The fact that I'm also not here in June plus the extra time needed to get myself settled might not bode well for me in the eyes of the interviewers - so I don't want to get my hopes up at all, and simply regard it as being a good sign that after only a few applications over the water, I already have scored an interview. It's a start.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Wild Iris
I've recently joined an online photography school site that has an great series of photography tips as well as post processing techniques. I'm just starting to experiment with a different software package. This was a simple crop, addition of a vignette and the usual fine touches of contrast/exposure/saturation levels
Even my dog has a chiropractor
I've never had a dog before. In fact, I've only very sporadically had cats and have never had the occasion to take any of them to the vet. However, being as I am a newly responsable, mature and adult dog owner (read 'wallet on legs') I have had a couple of recent visits for booster shots and the like. This last visit came with a singularly bizarre witch doctory chiropractic session where my fairly confused and generally overexcited dog (beggin the frequent question 'Is he always this hyper?') was treated to some micro manipulations from the local vet who, as far as I could tell, appeared to be casting out localised stresses with dramatic flourishes of her wrist.
So, is that normal then? Or has she hexed my dog?
So, is that normal then? Or has she hexed my dog?
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Customer Dis-Service Industry
In general terms for Australians, the customer service industry encompasses any and all sectors of commerce where you're being inadequately served by a halfwit that's only doing the job to pay the rent/ their pot habit/ their car/ their trip around the world. Yet amazingly enough - in France, a country where these types of jobs are frequently regarded as career jobs - the service is even worse. I used to be one of those halfwits that worked these kinds of jobs while I was back at uni. I did an ok job, it wasn't very interesting but it had the advantage of flexible shifts to fit around my lectures and fed the standard female shoes/bags/clothes habit. However, despite the general indifference of the bulk of my fellow employees, there was still a basic level of service demanded from the staff.
My fellow expat friends and I have frequently been discussing the problem of the seemingly standard level of shitty service we've encountered in France. An American friend of mine summed it up perfectly while we were waiting many long minutes at a counter to be served by a non-existant employee (and half-heartedly considering raiding the till and fetching our own meals just to pass the time)
" I've become accustomed to the mediocrity"
She's doing better than me then, because I still have serious problems with it. There are two varieties in the bad sales technique dept. that I come across all too often;
1. Talkback tactics: where any complaint you might have is generally regarded as somehow being your fault
2. To stand and ignore: stand there and clear your throat all you like I'm not going to acknowledge your presence until I'm ready.
Though far from perfect themselves, in other anglo countries I've lived in or visited, the mantra of 'the customer is always right' (no matter how much of an arse they are) holds more sway. There seems to be a strange idea in France that it's not the person with the wallet that has the power but rather the commerce that has the goods. This possibly explains why - to buy my camera and pay it over several months, I was forced to buy a membership card with the shop in question and have had to pay 17% interest over the term of the purchase plan. This is about the same rate I'd expect to pay if I was overdue on my credit card repayments. In Australia, interest free terms on monthly repayment schemes are fiercely marketed and I've never had to pay to become a member when I've opted to pay over a set period. Not to say the credit issue is better in Australia, there are a lot of people who have got themselves caught in the big financial hot water soup that we call materialism. But still, you get the impression you're being taken for a big fat overpriced ride with a box of popcorn and premix coke that just cost you 10euros.
Still, the service at the restaurant where I took this photo was acceptably decent. It's the first Indian restaurant that my friends or I have come across in Lille that serves half decent Indian food. It's something of a perplexing mystery why - with a short hop, skip and jump over the channel you're suddenly swimming in great tikkas, whereas over this side of the pond they still don't know a poppadom from a naan bread. So this resaturant gets my ok:
Namaste
Boulevard Jean Baptise Lebas
Lille
By contrast, I'll take a moment to mention the Indian restaurant 'Aux Indes' in Vieux Lille which gets my two thumbs down. Terrible service, overly hyped, exorbitantly priced micro portions of nouvelle cuisine and a crazily limited amount of choices on the menu.
My fellow expat friends and I have frequently been discussing the problem of the seemingly standard level of shitty service we've encountered in France. An American friend of mine summed it up perfectly while we were waiting many long minutes at a counter to be served by a non-existant employee (and half-heartedly considering raiding the till and fetching our own meals just to pass the time)
" I've become accustomed to the mediocrity"
She's doing better than me then, because I still have serious problems with it. There are two varieties in the bad sales technique dept. that I come across all too often;
1. Talkback tactics: where any complaint you might have is generally regarded as somehow being your fault
2. To stand and ignore: stand there and clear your throat all you like I'm not going to acknowledge your presence until I'm ready.
Though far from perfect themselves, in other anglo countries I've lived in or visited, the mantra of 'the customer is always right' (no matter how much of an arse they are) holds more sway. There seems to be a strange idea in France that it's not the person with the wallet that has the power but rather the commerce that has the goods. This possibly explains why - to buy my camera and pay it over several months, I was forced to buy a membership card with the shop in question and have had to pay 17% interest over the term of the purchase plan. This is about the same rate I'd expect to pay if I was overdue on my credit card repayments. In Australia, interest free terms on monthly repayment schemes are fiercely marketed and I've never had to pay to become a member when I've opted to pay over a set period. Not to say the credit issue is better in Australia, there are a lot of people who have got themselves caught in the big financial hot water soup that we call materialism. But still, you get the impression you're being taken for a big fat overpriced ride with a box of popcorn and premix coke that just cost you 10euros.
Still, the service at the restaurant where I took this photo was acceptably decent. It's the first Indian restaurant that my friends or I have come across in Lille that serves half decent Indian food. It's something of a perplexing mystery why - with a short hop, skip and jump over the channel you're suddenly swimming in great tikkas, whereas over this side of the pond they still don't know a poppadom from a naan bread. So this resaturant gets my ok:
Namaste
Boulevard Jean Baptise Lebas
Lille
By contrast, I'll take a moment to mention the Indian restaurant 'Aux Indes' in Vieux Lille which gets my two thumbs down. Terrible service, overly hyped, exorbitantly priced micro portions of nouvelle cuisine and a crazily limited amount of choices on the menu.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Cat tossing
During the middle ages in Europe many cats were sacrificed by being burnt, beaten or thrown to their death. It is not know whether the people in the middle ages wanted to punish the cat as disturber of the peace, renounce evil or simply continue the ritual of cat sacrifices …
During the middle ages the Grote Markt in Ypres became overcrowded on Cat Wednesday (the last day of the annual fair). The city jester would throw live cats to their death from the belfry tower. Ypres has continued custom for centuries - up until 1817. In 1938 the tradition was revived by throwing velvet cats from the tower.
Grote Markt
A difficult shot due to the strong sunlight. Used a fill flash to highlight the miniature of the Grote Markt in the foreground. Ypres, Belgium
Monday, April 30, 2007
Supermarket
I got a request to do a 'stock photography' style photo from a friend for a webpage. This is also the first time I've tried the technique of slightly blurring the background to enhance a point of focus.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Lone Bike
In Belgium, like Holland, people use bicycles a lot to get around. Brugges, Northern Belgium.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Lacemaker
Belgian lace is a common product of Brugges. This photo was taken in front of a lacemakers store.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
John Butler
From a rocking Australian band called the John Butler Trio. They played a short set at the local bookstore in Lille, France
Sunday, April 22, 2007
French politicians have fake suntans
There are some upcoming presidential elections round the political corner, and - as with any modern democracy- this translates to a lot of talk time. What is quite singular about the French democratic process is the sheer number of candidates that put themselves forward. The road to presidency is littered with hitch-hikers holding 'Elysée' placards. While most of them will become nothing more than roadkill (circled by media vultures - just go with me on the lonely desert road political bandwagon, vultures picking the bones of the politically dead imagery ok?) it is this system of supersaturation that resulted in Chirac winning the last lot of elections. With the vote split amongst a large number of candidates, the two candidates whose heads were peeping up a little higher from the pile of political carcasses were from the centre right (Chirac) and the far right (Le Pen).In April we had the first round of voting for the Presidential elections.
In May it will be down to 2 candidates, Nicolas Sarkozy and Segolene Royale
Sunday, April 15, 2007
The lost art of sleeping in
I protest! Ok, so I've never been someone able to sleep in to a great extent.
My mother would tell you differently but even in the halcyon days of life as a university student, unless I tried really hard I couldn't sleep much past 10.30am. This, amongst my slacker intellectual peers, was regarded with some horror. And despite what the old adage may say, the early bird does not always get the worm, more often what (s)he gets is the job of cleaning up the beer cans, bottle tops and cigarette butts. While those days of excessive post party clean ups are long gone now, and I don't regard that with any sense of nostalgia, and 10.30 is a bit late to be laying about in bed, 7.30 is still too early to be up on Sunday.
It's an unusual sleeping pattern for a period of unemployment (I've had one before, I'd hoped it'd be my first and last combined). Generally the panic and stress keeps me up until the early hours of the morning, and the depression keeps me under the covers until the mid morning. But no, here I am, up bright end early every single day. Not that its changed anything. Last week I got interviewed and subsequently knocked back for a 2 week high-school graduate level job as a data entry person for wetland biodiversity studies. Financially speaking it wouldn't have made any difference, it WAS only two weeks, and it was a hell of a difficult commute to get out there, but I was still angry. Probably because I'm looking for any excuse to be angry. Otherwise I'm just being knocked back from the usual - admin assistant, bilingual assistant. Mostly I'm just looking forward to heading back to Australia at the moment. Should give my body clock something else to think about at least...
My mother would tell you differently but even in the halcyon days of life as a university student, unless I tried really hard I couldn't sleep much past 10.30am. This, amongst my slacker intellectual peers, was regarded with some horror. And despite what the old adage may say, the early bird does not always get the worm, more often what (s)he gets is the job of cleaning up the beer cans, bottle tops and cigarette butts. While those days of excessive post party clean ups are long gone now, and I don't regard that with any sense of nostalgia, and 10.30 is a bit late to be laying about in bed, 7.30 is still too early to be up on Sunday.
It's an unusual sleeping pattern for a period of unemployment (I've had one before, I'd hoped it'd be my first and last combined). Generally the panic and stress keeps me up until the early hours of the morning, and the depression keeps me under the covers until the mid morning. But no, here I am, up bright end early every single day. Not that its changed anything. Last week I got interviewed and subsequently knocked back for a 2 week high-school graduate level job as a data entry person for wetland biodiversity studies. Financially speaking it wouldn't have made any difference, it WAS only two weeks, and it was a hell of a difficult commute to get out there, but I was still angry. Probably because I'm looking for any excuse to be angry. Otherwise I'm just being knocked back from the usual - admin assistant, bilingual assistant. Mostly I'm just looking forward to heading back to Australia at the moment. Should give my body clock something else to think about at least...
Monday, April 09, 2007
Ardennes horse
The Ardennes is one of the oldest breeds of draft horse originating from the Ardennes area in France/North Western Europe.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Kites in Berck Plage, Northern France
21eme Rencontres Internationales de Cerf-Volant (21st International Kite Festival)
This is an annual exhibition of kites that takes place in Berck Plage, Northern France. Entrants from around the world have an opportunity to show off their spectacular kites and compete in kite flying competitions.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Easter at Meert
Meert, one of the nicest gourmet dessert shops you're ever likely to find
Lille, France
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Socialite
Owning a dog in France is like obtaining an open pass to converse with any and all strangers you meet on the street. Whether you want to or not...you have little choice in the matter. While his little cocker eyes don't fool me for a second, they seem to work wonders on all passers by that either have a dog, had a dog, want a dog or are quite simply insane. Being, as we are, in France, this figure is somewhere around the 98.3% mark.
Heron fishing
A lucky fluke that I was paying attention to the heron when he lunged for a fish! Lille zoo, France
Monday, March 26, 2007
Monday, March 19, 2007
Friday, March 16, 2007
Good dog, bad dog
My boyfriend, master of the poorly thought out idea, lived up to his reputation this weekend and got a puppy on the spur of the moment. Zero preparation in the apartment, shoes and cables and dvds lying about as we leave the house with no intention of getting a dog...and come back a lot poorer with an armful of canine...
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Monday, March 05, 2007
It's all about the meme
Monday, March 05, 2007
During a recent game of trivial pursuit (ahem, French junior edition that is - look, some of the questions are actually a bit HARD, alright? Stop looking at me like that!)
So I learned, while I was (cough) happily losing (because being an only child does wonders for social development), that in Les Miserables (the written one), Fantine doesn't sell her pretty locks, like in the version musicale, but rips out her gnashers to sell instead. I guess a bald aria is easier than a gummy one.
So, in the spirit of cultural learning, here's a book meme from her
Except that I changed it.
A little.
Because I just can't help myself.
Italicized = books you want to read
Bold = books you've read
Strike = books you wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole or wish you hadn't
* = never heard of it
+ = on your shelf
During a recent game of trivial pursuit (ahem, French junior edition that is - look, some of the questions are actually a bit HARD, alright? Stop looking at me like that!)
So I learned, while I was (cough) happily losing (because being an only child does wonders for social development), that in Les Miserables (the written one), Fantine doesn't sell her pretty locks, like in the version musicale, but rips out her gnashers to sell instead. I guess a bald aria is easier than a gummy one.
So, in the spirit of cultural learning, here's a book meme from her
Except that I changed it.
A little.
Because I just can't help myself.
Italicized = books you want to read
Bold = books you've read
Strike = books you wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole or wish you hadn't
* = never heard of it
+ = on your shelf
1. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen) (possibly +, I can’t remember)
3. +To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee) (honest, I will one day)
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. +The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. +The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. +The Lord of the Rings:
8. +Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. +Perfume, Patrick Süskind
10. +
11. +Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
12. Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13. +Harry Potter and the Order of the
14. * A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16. +Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Rowling)
17. On The Road, (Jack Kerouac)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. +Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (JK Rowling)
0. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. + The Hobbit (JRR Tolkien)
22. +The Catcher in the
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. +Winnie the Pooh, (AA Milne)
25. +Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. +The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27.
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis)
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie (Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. +The Wind in the Willows, (Kenneth Grahame)
33. *Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. +1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. *The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. Captain Corelli's Mandolin, Louis de Bernieres
39. +Tess Of The D'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy
40. *The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. +Stranger in a Strange Land (Robert Heinlein)
43.
44. *The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. +Robinson Crusoe Daniel Defoe Stupid, stupid, stupid. Blah.
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. +Gullivers Travels (Jonathan Swift)
49. +The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. *Clarissa (Samuel Richardson)
51. +The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. +A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. *Ender’s Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. +Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. +The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. +Farenheit 451 (Ray Bradbury)
57. +Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. +The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. *The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. *The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolstoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. +Far From The Madding Crowd (Thomas Hardy)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. Don Quixote (Miguel De Cervantes))
68. +Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. Les Miserables (Hugo)
70. +The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones’ Diary (Fielding)
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The
76. +Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl
77. +Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. *Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer
80. The Plague (Albert Camus)
81. Moby Dick (Herman Melville)
82. +Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. Middlemarch, George Eliot
85. +Emma (Jane Austen)
86. +Watership Down(Richard Adams)
87. +Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. *Nightmare Abbey (Thomas Love Peacock)
89. +Animal Farm, George Orwell
90. *Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. *In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. +Lord of the Flies (Golding)
93. *The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95.
96. +Magician, Raymond E Feist
97. *White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. *The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100. Ulysses (James Joyce)
Retracing old steps
It was my first time back in Paris since we'd left definitively about a year ago. Whereas once I was cynical enough to be rolling my eyes at the enchanted tourists, I was myself finally able to appreciate it again for the city that it can be. The edges of bad memories of being pushed and shoved about in the metro softened by observing people actually being courteous, by not riding the peak hour lines or times, by not having to be anywhere at a particular time (except for the train station Anne, except for the train station... :p)
It wasn't only the harsh memories that got a bit fuzzy, but the general layout of several areas also. Doesn't help when you lose your Paris pocket map book either and you're relying on a department store map that thought putting in names of metro stations was less important than inserting very large not to scale images of where their store was located. Still, enough tourists seemed to consider that I looked like I knew where I was going well enough to ask for direction. So the reason for the visit was nothing more than an escape from solo boredom. Ben had a training course (can we say free hotel room with breakfast?) so rather than sitting about bored and pretending to keep busy for a week, I figured I might as well dust off the camera and take a tour. And get free breakfast.
It wasn't only the harsh memories that got a bit fuzzy, but the general layout of several areas also. Doesn't help when you lose your Paris pocket map book either and you're relying on a department store map that thought putting in names of metro stations was less important than inserting very large not to scale images of where their store was located. Still, enough tourists seemed to consider that I looked like I knew where I was going well enough to ask for direction. So the reason for the visit was nothing more than an escape from solo boredom. Ben had a training course (can we say free hotel room with breakfast?) so rather than sitting about bored and pretending to keep busy for a week, I figured I might as well dust off the camera and take a tour. And get free breakfast.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Eclipse series
I only have a 200mm lens so this isn't as good as a lot of other peoples i've seen with longer lenses. I set up my tripod and went outside every 15minutes or so during the eclipse; I started with about 1/60 shutter speed for full moon and dropped down to 3sec for eclipsed moon
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Dunkerque is not just in Scotland
On a weekend, late in February, I was initiated into my first carnevale, Dunkerque style. First lesson is that too much fluro, fake fur and feathers is never enough . And what a happy coincidence, for the sake of narrative flow, that they all start with ‘F’.
Men dress like women, women dress like, well, caricatures of women. But ultimately, anything goes as pirates and maidens parade through the main streets jeering the onlookers safely watching from above, calling them the ‘cuckolds on the balcony’. Not actually knowing where we’re supposed to be going I placidly follow the two metre high umbrellas and sea of flowered hats.
‘So why are we stopping now’
‘Herring toss’
‘Ok, the what, now?’
Comprehension dawning as I see vacuum sealed packets of smoked herring sailing in gentle arcs overhead. Panic dawning as I realise the crowd , like so many rabid seals, really want the herring. Wanna know another thing that starts with F? (this is where I should mention that, despite being able to deal with pretty much anything bar scuttling giant cockroaches, I have a phobic reaction to anything resembling a mosh pit, to anyone I trampled in my blind panic to get out…move faster next time).
Anyhoo, aside from the mini breakdown, I actually had a pretty good time (assisted by my good friend alcohol). It wasn’t carnevale proper, which happens sometime around mid February, but rather one of the smaller suburban celebrations, which start in the Dunkerque region sometime in early January and finishes at the end of March.
Men dress like women, women dress like, well, caricatures of women. But ultimately, anything goes as pirates and maidens parade through the main streets jeering the onlookers safely watching from above, calling them the ‘cuckolds on the balcony’. Not actually knowing where we’re supposed to be going I placidly follow the two metre high umbrellas and sea of flowered hats.
‘So why are we stopping now’
‘Herring toss’
‘Ok, the what, now?’
Comprehension dawning as I see vacuum sealed packets of smoked herring sailing in gentle arcs overhead. Panic dawning as I realise the crowd , like so many rabid seals, really want the herring. Wanna know another thing that starts with F? (this is where I should mention that, despite being able to deal with pretty much anything bar scuttling giant cockroaches, I have a phobic reaction to anything resembling a mosh pit, to anyone I trampled in my blind panic to get out…move faster next time).
Anyhoo, aside from the mini breakdown, I actually had a pretty good time (assisted by my good friend alcohol). It wasn’t carnevale proper, which happens sometime around mid February, but rather one of the smaller suburban celebrations, which start in the Dunkerque region sometime in early January and finishes at the end of March.
Faces of pont neuf
Pont neuf is the oldest bridge in Paris and these carved faces (mascarons) are caricatures of the tradesmen common to the period when it was built(late 1500s)
Retracing old steps
It was my first time back in Paris since we'd left definitively about a year ago. Whereas once I was cynical enough to be rolling my eyes at the enchanted tourists, I was myself finally able to appreciate it again for the city that it can be. The edges of bad memories of being pushed and shoved about in the metro softened by not riding the peak hour lines or times, by not having to be anywhere at a particular time (except for the train station Anne, except for the train station... :p)
It wasn't only the harsh memories that got a bit fuzzy, but the general layout of several areas also. Doesn't help when you lose your Paris pocket map book either and you're relying on a department store map that thought putting in names of metro stations was less important than inserting very large not to scale images of where their store was located. Still, enough tourists seemed to consider that I looked like I knew where I was going well enough to ask for directions. So the reason for the visit was nothing more than an escape from solo boredom. Ben had a training course (can we say free hotel room with breakfast?) so rather than sitting about bored and pretending to keep busy for a week, I figured I might as well dust off the camera and take a tour. And get free breakfast.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)